Wake Me When It's Over
by Manic P
Summary: [On Hold]A 'what if' story: The Mercer brothers' sister returns home for their adoptive mother's funeral. Can past wrongs be forgiven? And can they reconcile amid blood and chaos?
1. Goodnight Moon

**_Title: Untitled_**

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own Four Brothers, and am in no way affiliated with the film. All characters within, excluding Kitty Davis/Mercer, do not belong to me.

**_Notes;_** This is a Bobby/OFC fic, first of all. And that OFC is portrayed as his foster sister. If that makes you uncomfortable for some reason, don't read this fic. Also, anything written in italics is a flashback. The other writing is present time. I'm trying something different from my usual style, and it may not work. I'd like opinions, but if you don't like this fic please don't review saying something like, "This sucks, you suck".

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**_Part One: Goodnight Moon_**

I turn off my car, cutting off the final strains of the song and leaving me in silence. The night is pitch black, just as black as my mood. I stretch my aching fingers, removing them from my death grip on the wheel, and sigh heavily. The cold has crept into my bones, thanks to the broken heater in the borrowed car, and I begin to shiver a little as I look up at the house in front of me. Instantly, I feel an intense myriad of emotions swell up in my heart and throat, my mind reminding me of memories I had long forgotten. I smile, a sad wistful smile, and finally move to get out of the car. I grab my things from the trunk, just two duffle bags, and head to the front door. I open the screen door, but as I do I drop my car keys. Cursing softly, I stoop to get them and just as I do, a masculine voice asks, "Need a hand?"

I let out a scream of surprise, leaping backwards instinctively, my heart hammering hard in my chest. I hear chuckling and squint to make out the form of my brother, Angel. I growl in irritation, hissing, "_Asshole_! Jeez, you scared the shit out of me." He stands leisurely, and stretches out his arms, giving me a half grin that is all Angel. I roll my eyes at him but step into the embrace, smiling when I feel how warm he is. He gives me a noisy kiss on the cheek, releasing it with a smack. I laugh, thinking how little he's changed, and pull back to get a good look at him. He's much taller than I remember him being, and he looks a little rougher around the edges, but despite this and the grief I see in his eyes, he looks the same. He smiles again, and I frown, leaning in a little closer to question, "Did you get your teeth whitened?" He scowls and mutters, "Shut up."

"I'm guessing you don't have the keys then?" I say, staring wistfully at the door. He shakes his head, sinking back down into the rusting chair he had been sitting in previously. I sigh a little, having always hated the cold, and sink down into a crouch on the floor in front of him. Most people would find this position uncomfortable, but I never have. Angel seems to be lost in thought for a minute, and so I take the opportunity to zone out myself, staring out the dusty window to the starry night sky above. I wonder if Mama's looking down on us right now. The thought instantly makes me stiffen, and I tear my eyes away quickly. I bite my lip as I wrap my arms around myself, still shivering a little. I close my eyes briefly and think of the funeral, one of the worst days in my life.

_ I open the doors to the church as quietly as I can, cursing myself and my perpetual inability to make it anywhere on time. Luckily for me, I open the door just as the people gathered begin to sing a hymn, one of the many I don't recognise. I try to slide in unnoticed but it's nearly impossible. Everyone in the back two rows turns to look at me once I open the door, feeling the cold draft on their backs. The annoyed stares of those who know me quickly melt away to expressions of sympathy and I nod at a few of these people, accepting it. I question the reality of the situation as I waveringly make the proper responses along with the other people in the church. I suddenly feel myself begin to ache for my brothers, an emotion I haven't felt in a long time. It's foreign to me suddenly, and I catch myself looking around for them. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling terribly lonely. _

_ It's a nightmare that doesn't seem to want to end. I fidget, wanting to run as I usually do. I miss my Mama, miss the feeling that she would always be there. In my mind, no matter how far away we all drifted, we all had some place to come home to, and someone that would come to greet us if we did. I was one of her wayward children, though I called and wrote as much as I could. Thinking about it now, surrounded by people who knew her on a day to day basis these last few years, I feel ashamed. I remember our conversations as one-sided, me talking about the troupe and our shows as if nothing else mattered. She never complained, but it must have bothered her. Sometimes she would call me at the school and I would tell them to take a message, actually not wanting to talk to her. The reasons behind these situations were that I was scared, pure and simple. Mama always had a sixth sense about her children's emotions and she always knew when something was wrong. I took the coward's way out._

_ When it comes time to leave the church I almost don't want to get up out of my seat. In an almost perverted way, I feel better here knowing that God is most likely judging me for how I've acted. I can do my penance here better than anywhere else. But as the crowds clear and thin out, I can finally see my brothers, all looking so handsome and so damned solemn that it breaks my heart. I am not at all surprised to see that Angel is nowhere to be seen, though it does make me a little frustrated with him. It is Jack that sees me first and he waves, shouting my name in a very inappropriate way. Still, it's Jack all over and I can't help but smile, though that feels like it should be the last thing I would want to do on a day like this. My grin even widens when I see Bobby smack him in the back of the head, hissing something at him in true Bobby style. Jack's eyes widen in an expression of innocence that only he seems to have perfected and he gestures at me wildly, obviously protesting Bobby's actions. _

_ I feel myself flush a little when Bobby turns towards me, his eyes narrowing as he tries to see me through the crowds. I can tell the instant he notices me, because his body stiffens completely and his eyes feel like they bore through me. I smile, though I'm sure it's a nervous one, and wave a little. I am just about to mouth something to him when I am nudged by an elderly woman. She gives me a patient look but I laugh breathlessly, sheepishly saying, "Sorry." I move out of the pew and into the isle, following the masses out into the graveyard. All happiness from seeing my brothers fades away as we gather around my Mama's casket. The priest says a few words, but I feel numb, too numb to take them in. Without really knowing what I'm doing, I find myself moving to the head of the crowd. Though I desperately want to, and think I should be weeping, I find that I can't. I tremble beneath my leather duster, and it has nothing to do with the cold. _

_I hear them begin to lower her casket into the ground and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out. I want to beg them not to put her down there in the cold ground, I want to cry and scream until God gives her back to us. But I can do nothing but stand there and stare, shaking so hard that my teeth begin to chatter. I try to say goodbye to her, but it seems so wrong. I give myself a mental shake and tell myself, '_Everything about this is wrong_.' _

_ I lift my now aching eyes to my brother Bobby, startled to find that my eyes connect with his. I shiver even more when I see the look on his face, the exhaustion, the anguish and most of all, the rage. Ever since I can remember, Bobby has always been angry about something. He's had this burning fury inside of him that just never seems to go out. He's intense, so mind-numbingly intense, but there's just something about him that makes me gravitate to him. My heart aches at the sight of him, and I wish things could have been different. I tear my eyes away from him, promising myself that I won't get too involved._

As soon as the ceremony had finished, I took off. Again, this is not unusual for me. I hate awkward situations and I never liked confrontation. I love my brothers, but the way I left things with Bobby has made me a kind of outsider in many ways. I had already been somewhat of an outsider to the Mercer family, what with being the last to come into the fold and being a girl to boot. They hadn't had any clue how to treat me, and so they all, even Jack, fell into the role of the protective brother. Even though I never told them my sob story, and I know Mama never said a word either, they decided to keep me from everything that might even remotely hurt me. I rarely had boyfriends in high school because of them and their reputation. More than once, I found myself being dumped because either Bobby or Angel threatened my guy to the point of having him scared to even look at me.

As I got older, it became more and more unbearable. I went out of my way to irritate them, drinking heavily, hanging with dangerous guys, flirting constantly, sneaking into clubs when I was way too young. I made myself into a party girl just to get away from their stifling protectiveness. I didn't want them around me; I didn't want them protecting me. I wanted, as I used to be so fond of screaming at them, to live my own life. Mama used to be the peacemaker in these situations, trying to get me to see just how much they cared for me. I found it hard to believe, and I soon began to turn my attentions elsewhere. I got it into my head that I could make it on my own without any Mercer in my corner. I decided to try out for a prestigious ballet troupe, hoping that I'd manage to get away.

To everyone's surprise, I managed to get in. I moved out as quickly as I could, not letting myself feel remorse or fear. It was the night before I was leaving and everyone gathered at Mama's house. The second my brothers walked in the house, I felt the tension. Bobby openly glared at me, refusing to say a word of congratulations to me. I knew he was ready to explode, and I resented it. How dare he act like this, on _my_ big night? Mama gave him warning looks all through dinner, but he refused to let it go. It was right in the middle of the meal that he finally snapped.

"How was it?" Angel asks me suddenly, breaking into my thoughts. I give him a puzzled look, and he slowly presses, "The… funeral." I draw back a little, murmuring, "Oh. That." I sigh heavily and stand, walking to the window. I shove my hands in my pockets and say, "It was nice… terrible, but nice." He chuckles a little, though there is no mirth in it, and seems a little more at ease. I think he didn't go because he knew how it would be. In this moment, I understand my brother's actions better than I thought I would. I pace aimlessly for a few minutes, now really feeling the cold, and briefly entertain the idea of getting back into the car. I decide against it after only a second, telling myself that it's probably warmer in here with Angel than out there in the car. '_It's not so lonely here, either_,' I think, surprising myself. I had automatically assumed that being with any of my brothers, no matter how much I missed them, would be awkward. But with Angel, I'm not at all uncomfortable.

I glance at my watch impatiently, wondering where they are, and as if on cue, headlights appear in the driveway, pulling into the driveway. For a minute, I am rather pleased with myself for having parked on the street. At least this way, they won't be expecting me and I can catch them off guard. I crouch back down without even really thinking about it and wait for them to appear. When they do, they almost walk right past us. I'm positive they would have, if Angel hadn't spoken up.

"It ain't right, y'all leaving us out here in the cold." He says and they all spin around to look at him. Bobby starts in on him right away, in true Bobby style. He approaches Angel, sternly chewing him out even as he goes to hug him, greeting him as a brother should. I scowl, knowing that if it were me, I wouldn't get the same display of affection. Bobby loves to treat me like a child, and now is no different. Like a hawk, his eyes turn towards me and zero in on me, pinning me with their weight. He returns the scowl and says, "And where the fuck did you run off to without saying hello?" I stand, rising from my crouch easily, and say, "I did say hello… to Jack." With that, I turn away from him and smile at the others, stepping forward to embrace Jack and Jerry. I can actually feel his eyes still on me as we head inside.

We all freeze in the doorway, half gaping, half freezing in shock. It's like stepping back into a time warp, and the sensation is very strange. She hasn't changed a thing, at least not in this area. I take a deep breath in, feeling a lump in my throat when I smell the air. God, it even smells the same. I glance at the living room, half expecting to see Mama there with her bright and warm smile. I look to Bobby almost helplessly, feeling as though I'm rooted to the spot and unable to move. But it's not Bobby who speaks first, it's Jack. He announces he's going to go get something to eat, and I wonder with a touch of envy how he manages to stay so lean when he packs away food at the rate he does. I catch myself at the thought, knowing that this may not be true anymore. As Jack walks away from us I realize, with a pang of regret, that I don't know much about him anymore. In fact, I don't know much about any of them.

"You want anything?" Jack calls from the kitchen and we all refuse. Bobby now takes control of the situation and, as he walks up the stairs, he announces, "I'm going to get some shut-eye. Angel, you take your old room, Jackie'll have his and Kit's. Kit, you have mine. I'm gonna sleep in Mom's room." Though part of me is irritated by his attitude, I am grateful that he is the one to volunteer to take Mama's room. I don't know if I could handle that, seeing her things and knowing she won't be back. I follow them upstairs slowly, wincing at the ache in my feet. I head to Bobby's room and again, I am blown away by just how little has changed. I grin to myself when I take a deep breath in. At least that nasty boy smell has faded.

I sit on the edge of his bed and look around, committing every detail to memory. I find my heart is warmed by the sight of the things that make up Bobby Mercer. The hockey posters, the stack of comic books, some girly magazines; it's all him. I notice a couple of dents in the wall and recall the making of each one clearly. I toss my duffle bags into the corner and then kick off my shoes, my socks following soon after. I hiss in a breath when I see the sight of my feet. As much as I love my ballet, I can't stand what it does to my feet. Blisters and sores pepper my toes and the soles of my feet, red and angry looking. No wonder it hurt so much today.

I slip off of the bed and grab my smaller bag, rooting around until I find my first aid kit. Most people would think it odd that I carry one around with me, but the constant need to bandage and re-bandage my feet makes it necessary. Humming to myself softly, I sit cross-legged on the floor and begin the task. I've gotten rather fast at it, and it takes me less than five minutes to finish. I look at my feet with grim satisfaction and get up, tossing the leftovers into the garbage. I look at the window and feel that panic wash over me once again. For awhile, I battle my instincts to go over there and follow my little night time ritual, but I simply can't help it. Biting my lip, I feel myself begin to feel hemmed in. Though I know that it can and will open if I want it to, I have a hard time truly believing it. Finally, I can't take it anymore.

I go to the window and wrench it open with a bang, sighing in relief when I feel the cold air on my face. I lean over; looking straight down into the alleyway between Mama's house and next door. I feel foolish for reacting like this, but even as I do that little nagging voice in the back of my head is telling me to double check the door. I half shut the window, barely feeling the cold, and stride across the room to the door. I wrap my fingers around the knob and mutter to myself, "It's going to open… it will…." I open the door and find myself coming face to face with Jack. He nods at me and pauses to ask if everything's alright. I give him a wry look and he gets my message. He continues on his way without another word and I shut the door again, relief flooding through me. I slide down to the floor and faintly hear the sounds of music coming from the direction of Angel's room. I rest my head back and sigh heavily.

It is now, on the floor of a room that isn't mine, I find the privacy and solitude to finally release my tears. I bring my legs up to my chest and cry into my knees, trying to be as quiet as I can. I miss my Mama more than ever, and weep harder with the loss. My mind drifts for a moment, and I recall my first memories of her. 'Miss Evelyn'.

_I stare up at the woman in front of me, regarding her carefully. The weight of exhaustion over the last few days pressed down on me heavily, and part of me just wanted her to leave me alone, despite what people told me about her. I sigh heavily, stepping away from the window only briefly to shake her hand before moving right back. Mrs. McKinnon gives her an apologetic look and begins, "She's still not-" The woman cuts her off quickly and decisively, earning a frown from McKinnon and a half smile from me as she says, "Kitty _is_ still in the room, Mrs. McKinnon." I want to laugh at this, liking the older woman already. She tilts her head to one side and gently asks, "Would you like to sit outside with me?" I nod eagerly, having been told by Mrs. McKinnon that I wasn't allowed. I could tell that my incessant need to be outside was frightening her, and the chance to be out in the open is like heaven to me. _

_ Leaving the house, I feel some of the weight leave me abruptly, making me sigh a bit in relief. I sit cross legged on the grass and close my eyes, feeling the summer breeze on my face. When I open them again, the woman is smiling warmly at me again. When our gazes meet, she says, "I've always liked it best outdoors. Something about nature that makes all your cares just blow right away. It's almost as good as squishing your toes in mud." I giggle at this, nodding. I used to do that too, before what happened. My real Mother used to hate that. She used to tell me I'd wreck my feet that way. I always knew it was a lie. The woman sits down next to me and asks, "Do you know who I am?" I bite my lip for a moment, and then softly say, "You're a social worker?" She nods, and then says, "That's right. My name is Evelyn Mercer."_

_ "I'm Kitty Davis." I say, though I'm fairly sure she already knows who I am. I pick a blade of grass and quietly ask, "Where am I going now?" She gives me a look and says, "Another home, with a loving family." I nod shallowly, but the thought of leaving again makes me queasy. In the last three weeks I have seen the inside of three places, the police station, the McKinnon's' and the psychiatrist's office. All three places, I have felt very uneasy. They explained things to me over and over, but I can't seem to take it all in. In the Doctor's office, I try my best to tell him what he wants to hear, but nothing I say seems to be the right thing. I am tired, frustrated and tired, and I just want to go home. But there is no home to go to._

_ "Do you have a family, M'am?" I ask finally, looking up at her. She smiles, pride clear on her face, and says, "Yes I do. I have four boys." I raise my eyebrows, though I'm not sure why I'm surprised. She reaches into her back pocket and produces a wallet. I watch as she roots around for a bit before finding what she's looking for. She hands me a piece of paper and I take it from her carefully. It is a picture of a family, and I recognize Miss Evelyn easily. She looks a bit younger, maybe a year or two. Some of the hairs on her head are blonder than they are now, and she has a few less lines on her face. My eyes move away from her to the others in the picture and I frown, not understanding for a moment. I look up at her and ask, "Why are they all different colours?" She laughs a bit, replying in an amused tone, "I adopted them." She points them all out, telling me their names as she does. _

_ "That's Angel," she tells me, pointing out the tallest in the group. He's beaming widely, standing right next to Miss Evelyn, and looks very content. He is handsome, and I can tell already that he must have a gift with girls. When Miss Evelyn tells me as much only a moment later I can only grin. She taps the picture a little lower down and says, "That's Jeremiah, or Jerry as the others call him. He's my thinker." I tilt my head to one side, taking in this second son. True to what she says, he seems intelligent, judging by the look in his eyes. His face is incredibly serious in this photo, as if he were posing for one of those old time photos. _

_ "Sitting next to him is the youngest, Jack." She continues, pointing him out to me. A smaller boy smiles uncertainly out at me, his brown hair sticking up all over the place. Miss Evelyn tells me that he's only a year younger than me and I am surprised. By his stature, he looks much younger, maybe seven or eight. I find myself hoping that the others protect him, because he looks so lost to me. Everyone else in the photo is so much bigger than him. I look away from him to the last boy in the photo. This one is smirking more than smiling, looking like he's trying to be cool while still attempting to please his mother. He's not as dressed up as the others are, and his thick brown hair is slightly mussed, but he seems a bit more natural than the rest. _

_ "That's Bobby." Miss Evelyn tells me, "He's the oldest and quite a handful." She pauses for a few beats and then asks me, "Would you like to meet them?" I give her a surprised look and ask, "Why?" She considers this for a moment and then honestly says, "I'd like you to trust me. And I believe that in order to gain someone's trust, you have to get to know them. My boys are an important part of my life, so…." I understand and say, "Okay." I gaze at the picture once more before handing it back to her. She puts it back in her wallet and says, "Do you remember what they told you at the station?" I nod instinctively, though it's not entirely true, pulling up a few more blades of grass. Despite my answer, she continues, "They told you I'd be stopping by to ask you a few questions. Is that alright with you?" I nod, because up until this point she's asked me a lot of questions already. _

_ "Do you know what grade you're supposed to be in?" Miss Evelyn asks. I pause at this, trying to figure it out. It's been a very long time since I was in regular school, and when my Mother decided to pull me out, I was in grade five. After that, I was home schooled until…. I shiver a bit, quietly telling her, "I think the last time I was in proper school was grade five?" It's more of a question than a statement, but I get the message across. She nods, looking as though she's filing away this information in her head for later. She asks me a bunch of questions after that, things about my health and the psychiatrist and things like that._

_ Then she asks me a question that makes me smile, my spirits lifting immediately. Whenever anyone asks me what I want to be when I grow up, I find myself filled with spirit and energy. It surprises most people, but Miss Evelyn doesn't seem surprised at all. I speak rapidly and excitedly when I answer, "I want to be a ballet dancer. Mother says I'm very good and I've practiced every day since I can remember. I've studied all the masters and one day I'm going to be like them. Mother said that because I'm eleven now, I can start being serious about it. There's a school in New York called Julliard I want to go to someday. Mother wanted me to go as well, that's why…." _

_ I pause mid-sentence and simply gaze at her, tired of speaking about it. The police made me talk about it, the McKinnons made me talk about it and the psychiatrist continues to force me to speak of it. I want there to be at least one person who doesn't know every detail of what happened to me, who isn't on my case about it. I'm supposed to be angry with my Mother, for what she did to me, but I simply can't be, at least not yet. I am too exhausted to dredge up the emotion. Miss Evelyn seems to understand this and doesn't ask me another question. She takes her leave soon after, and the look on her face stays with me for quite some time afterwards. Sad, and yet contemplative, she hasn't fallen into the same old trap as the others. She didn't display only pity. She waved at me as she drove away, a gesture I returned just as Mrs. McKinnon called me in for dinner. I glanced back at the house, half wanting to launch a protest instantly. Instead, I pick myself up and march into the house, shutting the door behind me. I pause to test it, but unlike usual, I only do it once._

_ I take my place at the table, proud of myself, and eat under the incredulous looks of Mrs. McKinnon and her rather apathetic husband. I have turned over a new leaf, in my mind and in my life. _

I swipe at the tears on my cheeks almost angrily and get to my feet. I pace for a bit, feeling the emptiness of the room even more now, and suddenly feel the urge to leave. I go to the door and flee Bobby's room, heading instinctively for the room I shared with Jackie. I find him reclining on his bed, strumming at his guitar aimlessly. He blinks himself out of his daydreaming when I enter the room, giving me a mournful look when I collapse on the end of his bed, flopping backwards and heaving a dramatic sigh. He gives me a nudge with his foot and, without stopping his playing, he asks, "You alright?" I chuckle dryly and hoarsely say, "Yeah. I'm just… just a bit lonely." I curl up onto my side and admit, "I missed you Jackie." He gives me a half grin, glancing up briefly as he says, "I missed you too, believe it or not." I make a face at him and jokingly say, "Har har, you're very funny."

We fall into an amicable silence, and I find myself enjoying his company, just like when we were younger. I remember when I first moved in, I overheard Bobby teasing him about having to room with me. At first I was a bit hurt when Jack didn't say anything, but I had soon learned that it was just Jack's style. He waited until Bobby finished his taunting, and then he'd make his retorts. Bobby's voice was practically delighted sounding when he crowed, "Aw, the little princesses will be living together! You gonna braid each other's hair and gossip about all the cute little boys at school? 'Ooh, he's so _fine_, I want him so bad!'" Bobby's voice rose into a mock-feminine tone, and I could hear Angel guffawing from where I stood.

"You know, I feel sorry for you," Jack said in response, his voice very calm with a touch of amusement, "You see, while you're stuck in your room getting acquainted with your right hand, I get to hang out with Kitty and her ballet friends. I get to watch them practice. In spandex and leotards. _Together._Poor, poor Bobby." He walked away then, leaving Angel practically in hysterics, and I could just picture the look on Bobby's face, a look of stunned dawning. Jack was grinning to himself when he walked up the stairs, but the grin faded when he saw me. He gave me a sheepish look and began to excuse himself for what he said, but I shook my head at him, reaching out and mussing his hair a bit.

I snicker at the memory, but my mood turns sombre again when I hear a noise at the door. I look up in time to see Bobby walk in. He's still wearing the clothes he'd had on at the funeral, excluding the jacket of course. He's blinking almost constantly, his eyes suspiciously red, and I am not at all surprised when he sits down on the floor with his back to the both of us. We both know he's been crying, but neither of us bother to point it out. What surprises me the most about his arrival is the accompanying feeling of wanting to comfort him. I want to make him feel better with an intensity that really startles me. After all this time and after everything we've said to each other, I still have a very strong connection with him. I resist the urge, stubbornly clinging to my anger at him. He makes it easier for me by gruffly asking, "You two princesses done crying in here?" Jack and I roll our eyes in unison, Jack muttering, "Man, let it go."

There is a lull for a moment, which Jack breaks by asking, "Is it weird in Mom's room." Bobby groans, tilting his head backwards, and says, "So weird." I silently sympathize with him, but don't say anything, instead turning my attention to the comforter on Jack's bed. Outside the wind howls mournfully and I lift my eyes to look out at the darkness. The panic doesn't come; it never does when I'm with others. I glance down at Bobby and do a double take when I see him looking at me calculatingly. I frown at him and sharply ask, "What?" I internally wince at my own tone, feeling especially guilty when he just as sharply responds, "Just wondering how you're doing. _Shit_!" I sigh a little and quietly mumble, "Sorry." I pause for a moment before opening my mouth to say something, but the arrival of Jerry at the door makes me stop before I can get started. I smile and nod at him in greeting and he does the same, giving a little breathless laugh when he sees us all.

My mind wanders again, only halfway registering something about getting a turkey and having a family dinner. I want to ask Jerry if he's lost his mind, but I figure I'd only hurt his feelings that way. It seems to matter to him a lot. It's not like I have to get back right away, the troupe told me to take my time. I blink myself out of my thoughts to see Angel in the hallway. I frown a little when I see he's dressed as if he's about to leave, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but here. In many ways, I have to agree with him. The second Bobby lays eyes on him, he's attacking. Not for the first time, I have to wryly wonder why he didn't become a cop. He's got the interrogation thing down pat.

"Where the fuck are you off to?" he demands. Angel, true to form, freezes in mid-stride, and I have to grin when I see how he acts. He knows he's in trouble, in one way or another, and so he starts pulling his old routine. When Angel is caught about to do, or in the middle of, something he knows he probably shouldn't be doing his eyes go a little wide and this look of pure innocence blooms on his face. It's really rather fascinating to watch. He shoves his hands into his pockets, and fidgets a little. Bobby is in one of his moods tonight and he doesn't let up for one second as he begins to tease Angel. Strangely enough, Bobby is rather poetic in the delivery and phrasing of his insults and I find myself laughing along with the others. Angel finally tells us straight out that he isn't going over to Sofi's, his eyes wider than ever. He's still lying, it's easy to tell.

He leaves then, and with him the laughter leaves as well.

* * *

**End Part One.**

Soundtrack for part one: "Goodnight Moon" by Shivaree

What did you think? Can you guess what happened to her in the past?


	2. Weird

**__**

**_Title: Wake Me When It's Over_**

**_Disclaimer:_** I don't own Four Brothers, and am in no way affiliated with the film. None of the characters within, excluding Kitty Davis/Mercer, belong to me.**__**

**_Notes: _**Sorry about the wait! I just moved and it took me forever to get my internet service back up. So here's a super long chapter! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate the kind words. This is dedicated to the guys over at the Four Brothers community I'm a part of over at livejournal. This chapter is mainly flashbacks, I'm sorry to say. I got a bit carried away.

_Italics_ flashback

Normal present**__**

**__**

**_Weird_**

I sit on the edge of Bobby's bed, feeling my skin crawl as if being here has actually given me hives. The air smells a bit of cigarette smoke, Jack's doing, and I bite my lip as the craving to have one returns. I glance over at the alarm clock and sigh when I see the time. Quarter to three in the morning. I draw my legs up to my chest and lean my head back against the wall behind me. Staring at the ceiling, I let my mind drift once more, wanting to remember Mama as best as I can. Despite how I act, I don't hate it here. I love this old house as if it were a real person. I began to live here, and learned so much under this roof that there is no way I could hate it. It's just… not right. Not without Mama. I sigh heavily and close my eyes, remembering the day I first stepped foot in the house.

_Miss Evelyn doesn't contact us for some time after her visit. I spend my days wandering around the McKinnon's property like a shadow. I have been with this family for about six weeks now, and though I have worked up enough courage to make an attempt at being normal, there is still so much that is uncertain. They are uncomfortable around me still, not that I really blame them, and it is obvious that they are impatient to move on with their own lives. There is a heavy ache in my chest that doesn't seem to want to go away, and I have begun to believe that it never will. It has rained for the last few days, and the wet grass feels strange and cold on my bare feet. It has been a very wet August, at least it is according the newspapers, and Mrs. McKinnon's rose bushes have been ruined because of it. _

_ I can hear the sounds of children playing from where I am in the backyard, and part of me wishes I could join them. The psychiatrist came to the house a few days ago. He stared at me over the rims of his glasses, his rheumy eyes boring into me. The tone of his voice grated on my nerves terribly as he told the McKinnons that I would most likely have troubles socializing with other children for quite some time. I was a shadow during that meeting, and I kept myself occupied with the cookies Mrs. McKinnon had presented us with. They were stale and very dry. _

_ "The question of schooling has come up several times," Mrs. McKinnon said fretfully, sipping furiously at her tea, "and I'm sure you understand our reluctance to push ahead with the arrangements. I mean…." She glanced at me and then softly said, "We hadn't really planned on… all this." I wanted to cram my cookie down her throat then, and I later was rather proud of myself for the emotion I felt behind my thoughts. It was the first time in weeks that I had felt anything other than sadness and exhaustion. Even though it was anger, I was happy to feel something. She turned her eyes back to the doctor and sniffed, "I mean, it's rather inconvenient to have to worry about these tests. She seems able enough, I suppose. I'm sure she'd be fine in the proper grade." Mr. McKinnon nodded his head in agreement. The doctor, sitting back in a gesture that simply screamed self-importance, said, "You must understand that she hasn't had proper schooling for quite some time. It was her mother who taught her up until the incident and we haven't any clues as to how she handled it. Kitty could be right at the learning age she should be, or she could be hopelessly behind. The only way to know is the tests."_

_ I shudder when I think of the comments he made, speaking over my head as if I weren't even there. I had worried that night, sleeping even less than usual as I contemplated why they were so concerned about my intelligence. I tried my best to display my skills, but they largely went unnoticed and I realized that I mustn't be as smart as I thought. Now, I have myself scared to death that I might be disabled in some way. _Retarded_ My stomach ties up in knots as I think of the word and suddenly my feet are simply itching with the need to run away. Things are so bleak right now that I almost can't believe it. A little less than a month ago, I was staring out a window and imagining all the things I could do, if I were free. Now I can't believe my own stupidity. Things are much harder than I had expected them to be._

_ A breeze breaks into my thoughts, cool and refreshing on my skin, and I take a moment to simply appreciate what I have in this instant. I have long since become used to the sounds of the birds and the feel of the wind in my hair. I have become used to the sensation of having more than enough food in my stomach and warmth in my bones. I comfort myself with these little things for now, and tell myself that there will be more to come. I understand that I am, from certain stand-points, very much behind the normal child of my age. I haven't had the same experiences as other girls, thanks to my Mother. And now that I know it, a feeling of panic washes over me. If I'm so far behind, it will be hard to catch up. _

_ I am so involved with my thoughts that I almost don't notice the appearance of someone behind me. I tilt my head backwards to see who it is, giving myself an incredibly disturbing view straight up Mrs. McKinnon's nostrils. I try my best not to start laughing as she demands, "What on earth are you doing out here?" I tilt my head as best as I can from this angle and questioningly say, "Just sitting." She sighs heavily as if I'm the most troublesome person she's ever had to deal with and presses, "We've just gotten a call from Ms. Mercer. She has requested that we join her for dinner at her house. I suppose those… boys of hers will be there. In any case, you'd better go upstairs and get changed. And do something with your hair, please?" I find myself frozen to the spot, and my mind begins to whirl, screaming at me rapidly. I've never gone to anyone's house for dinner before. I have no idea how to act, especially around Miss Evelyn's boys. My face heats up at the very thought of it._

_ I reluctantly get up and fairly slink towards the house in my hesitancy. Telling her that I'd like to meet them and actually doing it are two very different things. I like Miss Evelyn, and the thought of embarrassing her and myself in front of her boys makes me feel sick to my stomach. As I get dressed and attempt to tame my curls into a braid, my fingers shake so much that I have to pause a few times to calm myself. I overhear Mrs. McKinnon whispering loudly in the hallway about how she hopes Miss Evelyn has found a proper home for me. She's excited about the idea, and I find myself becoming angry at her lack of sensitivity. Not for the first time, I have to fight to keep the bitterness from rising up within me. _

_ As I walk past them in the hallway, I spare her a vicious glare, one that makes her stop in her tracks. I am pleased by her reaction, as I have never shown my displeasure or anger towards her before. She has always described me as cold, and I agreed with her silently. But ever since Miss Evelyn came, I have tried my best to begin to take stock of what is happening around me and let it actually touch me. I walk down the stairs with my head held high and walk out to the car, waiting patiently by the back until they let me in. The car ride is absolutely silent, except for Mr. McKinnon's constant requests for directions. As usual, the man is utterly oblivious to the tension around him and his presence is more like an afterthought than anything else. I pity him in a way, knowing without a doubt that he is a secondary character in his own life._

_ I stare out the window after awhile, tracing patterns on the cool glass as the McKinnons bicker over the directions. Taking deep breaths to calm myself, I watch as the scenery seems to simply fly by. I picture Miss Evelyn and wonder if she'll notice that I've made any progress since I saw her last. Will she even care? I remember a conversation I overheard one night from my temporary caregivers that a lot of social workers have so many children under their watch that they simply forget about some. They had wondered if maybe Miss Evelyn had forgotten about me. I feel an unaccountable amount of pride at the fact that she hasn't forgotten about me. I suppose it's because it's happened so often._

_ We eventually turn onto a rather run-down street, pulling to a stop in front of a smallish house. There isn't anything very remarkable about it; in fact, it's so unremarkable that it's hard to describe. There is a porch, nothing very elaborate, and the driveway leads towards the back. At first, I have to wonder how five people can manage to live here without it being too crowded. We get out of the car, and I can almost feel Mrs. McKinnon's smugness over the fact that her house is better than Miss Evelyn's. It's one of the things that the McKinnons care about more than most things. I roll my eyes before I can stop myself and then follow them to the porch. I smile brightly when I see Miss Evelyn standing there, already waiting for us. She and the McKinnons shake hands and murmur their greetings, but when she greets me I receive a hug. _

_ I practically glow as she invites me into her house, though it doesn't stop me from checking the door once or twice before walking all the way inside. Mrs. McKinnon instantly attempts to stop me, launching into her old spiel, looking embarrassed. It's Miss Evelyn who stops her and quietly says to me, "You can leave any time you like, Kitty. It's alright." I don't respond to her, not right away. Instead I am listening carefully for the click of the door shutting. I relax slightly when there isn't a double click, indicating that the door locks automatically. Satisfied, I look up and smile a bit, re-joining the others. _

_ We all take a seat in the living room, and I listen as the adults exchange pleasantries for awhile before the conversation finally turns in the exact direction I was dreading. I lower my eyes as the topic of my schooling comes up. I'm ashamed of it, of the fact that I don't know many of the things I should. I am terrified that Miss Evelyn will make fun of me because of it, or worse. I shiver a bit as Mrs. McKinnon presses the issue, asking her if she's made any progress in finding me another home so that they can handle the tests. I look towards the door longingly, wishing I could just go outside for a moment. Every time I find myself making this wish, however, I counter it with making a promise to stay where I am. _

_ Slowly my body tenses up until I'm wound up extremely tightly, so much so that the muscles in my legs actually begin to ache a bit. Then, during one of the many times I am staring at the door, silently wishing I could leave it opens. It startles me so much that I jerk back, foolishly wondering if I've actually made it open simply by wishing. A moment later, a familiar face peers around the corner almost suspiciously, dark eyes narrowing to slits when they land on me and the McKinnons. I recognise him after a second, remembering the smile on Miss Evelyn's face when she told me about Angel. He is better looking than I thought, and I instantly feel my face begin to heat up when he turns his gaze on me. I lower my head, staring at my shaking hands with a sinking feeling in my stomach, thinking, '_Here we go_.'_

_ "Ma?" he says questioningly, and I almost smirk when I hear the McKinnons shift nervously in their seats. Their main problem with this business of meeting Miss Evelyn for dinner was the fact that her boys would be there. And, not that I could call them racist (the term is far too solid to be applied to them), they were most nervous about meeting Angel in particular. I feel badly for it already, and they haven't even opened their mouths yet. I can hear the smile in Miss Evelyn's voice already when she says, "These are the McKinnons, Angel. Mr. and Mrs. McKinnon, Kitty, I'd like you to meet my son Angel." _

_ They begrudgingly shake hands while I have a tiny, quiet meltdown at the thought of touching him. All I can think is, '_Oh my God…._' There is silence and I stare harder at my hands, my face feeling like it's on fire. I jump a little when I hear Miss Evelyn murmur, "Kitty." I glance over at her, feeling only mildly soothed when she gives me a small, sad smile. I glance over at Angel, who's standing in front of me looking utterly puzzled. I stand up abruptly and finally look him in the eyes. He's taller than me, and he smells nice, like cologne. I hold out my hand and quietly stammer, "I-I'm very pleased to meet you, sir." Inwardly I cringe, berating myself harshly for calling him 'sir', but the little voice starts to dissolve when I see the pleased grin on Angel's face. He shakes my hand and leans in to smoothly say, "Nice to meetcha." _

_ I smile so wide that my face actually starts to ache after a moment, and when I sit down I feel as though I've climbed Mount Everest. Angel is very affable, not pressing me about what just happened and he even somehow manages to make the McKinnons relax a bit. It turns out he's a bit funny, interjecting a few jokes into the conversation, though I can tell he doesn't really want to be here. It isn't long before the house begins to smell good enough to make my mouth water, and it doesn't take actually tasting Miss Evelyn's food to know it's better than Mrs. McKinnon's. Of course, if I told her that she'd simply say I have bad taste. _

_ Miss Evelyn glances at her watch, frowning a bit, and questions Angel, "Where are those wayward brothers of yours, huh?" He shrugs, but just then, as if on cue, the door slams open and the final three Mercers walk in the room, loud and rowdy. Bobby comes in first, tossing what looks to be hockey equipment onto the floor as he says to Jerry, who's right behind him, "You gotta keep your guard up, man. How many times I gotta save you, huh? Those guys nearly took your head off on that last move there." Jerry just makes a face at him, not willing to accept his adoptive brother's criticism just yet. The last one to enter is Jack, and I instantly want to smile at the look on his face. He's been cut, and there is blood leaking down the side of his face slowly. He looks exhausted and pale, and yet at the same time he has this enormously pleased look on his features._

_ Jerry turns to him, concern etched onto his own features. He tries to grab Jack's chin, exclaiming, "Damn, that's really bleeding Cracker Jack." Jack jerks away from his hand, his protest of, "Stop calling me that!" lost as Bobby commands, "Jack, go get that cleaned up, okay?" Jack rolls his eyes but does as Bobby says, dumping all his stuff on the floor. From the looks of things, I'd say they'd been playing street hockey. I saw a bunch of kids playing that in front of the McKinnon's house awhile back. I look down the second that Bobby finally seems to notice us. I glance over to the side as Miss Evelyn clears her throat, and suppress a smile when I see the look of exasperation on her face. I have to look at Bobby's reaction, and I am not disappointed. There is a look of clear confusion, and then dawning as he suddenly yelps, "Oh shit! That was today!"_

_ "Bobby! Language!" is Miss Evelyn's immediate reply, and I am a bit surprised when Bobby instantly contritely responds, "Sorry Ma!" A second later he's racing up the stairs, Jeremiah on his heels, shouting down something about only being a minute. I bring my hand to my mouth and try my best to hide my laughter, having found the entire thing incredibly amusing. I glance up in time to catch Angel's eye and my face goes completely red once more when he winks at me, sending me a wide grin as he does. He then stands, announcing that he needs to talk with his brothers, and strides out of the room. _

_ I look at Miss Evelyn to find an expression of love, exasperation and humour on her face as she shakes her head with a chuckle. It's all too easy to imagine her looking at me like that, and I realize just how dangerous these thoughts are. Just because she likes me, doesn't mean that she'd want to adopt me too. I fleetingly wonder how it came about that she adopted the rest, but I don't dare ask. I glance up at the ceiling when I hear a fight break out. Miss Evelyn groans and excuses herself to hurry up the stairs, leaving me alone with the McKinnons. They exchange looks with each other and I am not at all surprised to hear Mrs. McKinnon murmur, "They aren't very well behaved, are they?" She shakes her head as if dismissing them and then turns her attention on me, brightly saying, "I'm very surprised Kitty, you did very well with Angel." I nod shallowly, though I'm not sure how to respond to what she's said. I'm more worried about the test ahead, meeting the rest of the boys and having to sit at the dinner table. I console myself with the fact that I'll be surrounded by many people at least. _

_ The introduction to the rest of the boys is generally smooth. Jeremiah is extremely polite and soft spoken when we shake hands and I feel the most comfortable with him. When I shake Bobby's hand, I have to fight the instinct to wince at the grip he has on my hand. He squints at me hard, and only grunts at my very soft, "Hello." His reaction immediately makes me a bit frightened of him. I am surprised when Jack shows just as much shyness and reluctance as I do when it comes to touching each other's hands. Our eyes meet for a split second and in that instant we come to a silent understanding. I see the fear in his eyes as if they were a mirror of my own. Instead of shaking hands, we simply nod at each other with a smile before retreating to our corners. _

_ Dinner is almost as smooth, with a few exceptions. Bobby seems to have a problem with the McKinnons and I, staring at us as if he were trying to bore holes through our heads. I feel as though I'm doing something wrong every time he catches my eye from across the table, and so I try my best not to look his way. Mrs. McKinnon embarrasses me further by insisting on asking more questions about finding me a home, and the way she phrases her questions makes me sink further and further down into my seat. Miss Evelyn, to her credit, parries Mrs. McKinnon easily. She gives her answers that aren't really answers and generally takes a 'wait and see' attitude to everything. I almost admire the way she manages Mrs. McKinnon. The entire time, my eyes keep straying to the window._

_ The situation is weird in more ways than one. I don't feel right in my own skin, and with the vibes Bobby's putting off, I feel like I shouldn't be here. I pick at my food, playing with it more than eating it. My cheeks still feel like they're on fire, and I become hyper aware of how stupid I must look right now. These feelings of inadequacy simply continue to grow over the course of dinner until I just can't handle it anymore. I feel like I'm about to have a panic attack as I drop my fork with a clatter onto my plate. I bring my trembling hands to my face, bowing my head so nobody can see my expression. There is quiet for a second, broken by Miss Evelyn as she asks, "Kitty? Are you alright?" I nod shallowly and then, after breathlessly mumbling something about getting some air, I launch right out of my seat and run for the door. If it had been locked or hadn't opened for me right away, I guarantee I would have had a full blown panic attack. Luckily for me, I am able to get outside without any trouble, banging through the second door just as desperately._

_ The second I'm outside, I begin to shiver, feeling as though I've failed a big test. I collapse onto one of the steps on the porch and let out a shaky breath, trying my best to calm down. It's dusk now, and the sky is lit up with a rosy red colour, warm and sweet. I focus on that, using the techniques that the shrink gave me in order to relax. I'm so intensely focused on that I don't notice the person approaching me from behind until I feel a hand on my shoulder. I jump, twisting at the waist to see who it is. I relax again when I see that it is Miss Evelyn who has come for me, not really surprised. _

_ "It'll get easier." She says to me softly, sitting down next to me on the step. I sigh heavily and whisper, "Will it?" I blink furiously and admit, "I'm scared, Miss Evelyn. I really am…. Where am I going to go after the McKinnons have had enough? What if nobody wants me? And what about the tests…?" I shiver convulsively and, breaking into tears, wail, "Why… why did my Mother do this to me? I don't understand what I did wrong." When Miss Evelyn wraps her arms around me, I instinctively want to pull away at first, but the feeling of being held is too good to make me move. I feel myself growing even more attached to her in this second, even as I tell myself she could never be the one to take me in. Telling myself it could never happen doesn't stop me from dreaming._

I stare out the window into the snow, biting my lip as tears slowly course their way down my cheeks. The memory plays through my mind over and over again, almost tormenting me with its bittersweet feeling. I remember that as the moment I came to care for 'Miss Evelyn' as a mother figure. After that point, I knew she would always be important to me, no matter what happened. I sigh, resting my head on my folded hands, sniffling softly. My head aches from crying and my heart feels as though it's breaking, just as it did then. I was so scared then that I am still surprised I survived that period of my life. I remember how it used to be, how hard it was to feel anything at all, let alone fear. And when I did feel, it was intense and completely overwhelming.

After the dinner, Miss Evelyn had me return to her home several times. The date for the test was set, and I fretted over it almost constantly. Jack warmed up to me eventually, but Bobby seemed to cling to his stubborn will, refusing to become friendly with me just then. Whenever I'd come to visit, he'd make up some excuse to either hole up in his room or go out without any warning. It hurt, but because I was so preoccupied with the tests I couldn't pay it much attention.

I remember the day I went into the school to take the tests. It was the same school Jack was attending, PS12, and the second I stepped inside, I felt incredibly foreign. I was shaking like a leaf, clinging to Miss Evelyn as if she were my lifeline. I was surrounded by kids my own age, but it was a terrible feeling. I could barely remember what it was like to be in school, let alone with children my age, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do to reach out to them. I was blind and deaf when it came to communicating with kids, a fact that my shrink seemed to enjoy pushing on me. Even now, I still occasionally have trouble.

They sat me down at a desk in an empty classroom and handed me a pencil and the test. I was told I had about three hours to complete it, and I had instantly started to panic. The test was a booklet, and the thickness of it made me wonder if they had originally been attempting to write a novel before changing it to a test. Dismay had washed over me as I had been given instructions, and part of me gave up right away. Now, as I stare at the top of the kitchen table, I can clearly remember how I had only seen gibberish for a good fifteen minutes before I finally made myself relax. I had tried my best, guessing where I had to, but by the end of it something inside of me turned black. When they took that test away from me I stared straight ahead, the gravity of what had just happened taking over for a minute. It was Mrs. McKinnon who came to pick me up, not Miss Evelyn. She had no words to comfort me, and so later that night when the shit hit the fan, it was partly her fault.

_I pace around my room frantically, chewing on my nails until my fingers bleed, my nerves so frayed that I feel like I might fall apart at any second. Mrs. McKinnon has come in three times already to try and coax me out of my room, but I refused. I keep going over the test and wishing that I could have somehow known what questions they were going to ask. I have already cried, so overwhelmed that my entire body was wracked with silent tears, but it didn't help. I have never felt so close to cracking up before and it is an agonizing feeling. When Mrs. McKinnon knocks on my door for the fourth time in less than an hour, I feel my anger rear its ugly head._

_ "What?" I snap just as she opens the door. She gives me an affronted look and says, "Stop pacing around in here. We can hear you from downstairs." I frown at her and before I can help myself, I angrily retort, "Why is it that you only notice me when I'm annoying you? Is it some gift that you have, and if it is, you must tell me how it works. I'd like to be able to do the same to you." There is a voice inside of my head that is screaming in protest, questioning my sanity as I lay down a challenge at the older woman's feet. But the majority of me is entirely too pleased at the sight of her. She looks as though she's about to have a heart attack, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide enough to pop right out of her head and her body so taut that she might as well have been made of ice. She spluttered nonsense for a few seconds before yelping, "You little ingrate! We've taken care of you for weeks, and this is how you repay me… us?" I notice the slip and smirk, enraging her even more. _

_ "Don't you give me that look!" she practically shrieks, "You had better be listening to me, Kitty. I'm not fooling around here." I snort and shout back, "You think I am? You think I'm having a great time here, living with zombies like you? God, they might as well have sent me to a funeral home, with all the excitement around here." She raises her voice now, and her tone is like nails on a chalkboard as she returns, "Ungrateful! That's what you are! If I had known what we would be getting into with you, I would have refused to take you in." I bark out a laugh and cross my arms over my chest, snapping, "That's right, remind me just how much of a sacrifice you've made. It must be so tough on _you_. A charity case like me should be grateful to you for reminding me just how far below you I am." I drop the sarcasm then to shout, "I am so sick and tired of your pity me act. I see how you parade me out to your dried up hag friends, I'm not stupid. You show them just how good you are to 'those less fortunate', then you turn around and act as though I'm just supposed to be exactly what you expect me to be."_

_ She's so enraged by what I've said that she can't even think of anything to say. I think, as she sputters, "How dare you!" over and over again, that she knows deep down that I'm right. She only took me in as a way to show off her status, and when she realized that I might have problems it was as if I had gone from charity case of the day to the ticking time bomb nobody wanted anymore. She looks at me as though I'm about to turn into a criminal at any moment, especially now that I've become a bit more friendly with the Mercer boys. She expects me to be eternally grateful for having her treat me like dirt. The injustice and pain of it all wells up inside of me, and for the first time in weeks, I erupt. It's almost cathartic, screaming at her the way I am and I feel a piece of the tension inside of me dissolve as I finally tell her just what I think of her._

_ "You know what I think of you?" I scream at her, making her stumble back a bit as though I had physically pushed her, "I think you're a domineering, dried up bitch who wouldn't know compassion if it bit you in the ass. I think you care more about appearances than anything else in this world, and I think that makes you the most pathetic person I've ever met." _

_ Complete and utter silence greets my words at first, the only sound in the room being my heavy breathing. I feel the rage inside of me calm in these moments and the voice that had questioned my sanity rears its ugly head once more, suddenly becoming the majority. My entire system is flooded with regret, though it's not towards what I've said. I've always felt this way, and saying it aloud hasn't changed my opinion. It's the fact that I told her point blank that scares me. Up until now, the thought that this woman has my life in her hands has made me keep quiet. She is my guardian, at least for now, and she can do a lot to me. I swallow thickly and open my mouth to say something, but whatever I am about to say is lost when she quietly, yet dangerously, hisses, "Pack your things." _

_ "W-what?" I whisper, my eyes darting from her to the door and back again. She laughs cruelly and crows, "Not so strong now, are we? You heard me. Pack your things. If you don't like it here, that's fine. I have no problem showing you the door. In fact…." She walks out of the room before I can find out exactly what she has in mind. I curse my big mouth as I sink down onto the edge of my bed, completely stunned. I hear the sounds of a heated discussion downstairs and then her voice shrieks up the stairs, "I thought I told you to pack your things!" Almost mechanically I stand, doing what she says. Part of me wonders if she's really going to go through it and I cling to this little voice of doubt even as I pack up what few things I have left in the world. _

_ It is with an eerie sense of déjà vu that I am carted out of the McKinnon home for the last time. It's just like the last time in my mind that I completely shut down in the car, staring blankly ahead. Mr. McKinnon is behind the wheel, at his wife's bidding as usual, driving in total silence. I clutch at my bags as hard as I can, hearing the faint sound of my own voice ringing in my mind. I remember how I pleaded with my mother, asking her what she was doing, what was going on. I shudder convulsively, my throat constricting violently. I fight the urge to ask where we're going and simply sit there, quietly panicking. _

_ It isn't long before we pull up to Miss Evelyn's home. Instead of being happy to be there, this time I am mortified. I don't want her and her boys to know what happened tonight. I don't want her to know how disobedient I am. Mr. McKinnon turns in the front seat, staring at me with disappointed eyes. I feel one last spike of anger wash through me when he sighs, "You know, you really did bring this on yourself." I shake my head, throwing open the door and getting out. The second I shut the door Mr. McKinnon takes off, not even bothering to say goodbye. I don't blame him; it isn't as if he wanted me in his home in the first place. I sigh heavily as I look up at the now familiar home. Shame washes over me and I feel sick at the prospect of Miss Evelyn knowing what happened. _

_ I walk towards the house and slink up the steps like a kicked dog. I stare at the door for a good ten minutes before completely chickening out. I find a corner of the porch to sit at and simply wait. I rationalize it by telling myself that they're probably busy, maybe even having dinner, and I shouldn't bother them. Night comes and with it the cool night air, and before long I'm shivering constantly, no matter what I do to make the cold go away. I am just about to resign myself to a night out in the cold when the door suddenly opens. I squint, temporarily blinded by the light, and have to shade my eyes with my hand in order to see who is standing there. My gaze falls on Jack, who is surprised to see me, to say the least. I give him a sheepish smile and am about to explain myself when he suddenly hollers, "Mom! Hey, Mom! Kitty's been kicked out of the house!" _

_ I blanch, at first wondering how he knew what happened. My senses kick in after a second and I realize that he's put two and two together. To my surprise, he comes to my side and picks up one of my bags, taking it inside without asking me. I can only sit there, staring stupidly at his back, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. I hear the sounds of footsteps thundering down the stairs and then I am face to face with Bobby and Angel. Bobby crosses his arms over his chest and demands, "What the fuck makes you think you can stay here, huh?" I blink rapidly for a moment and then stammer, "I-I don't… I mean I'm… J-Jack just…." _

_ "Come on, spit it out!" he snaps, making me jump. I swallow thickly and murmur, "Mr. McKinnon just… dumped me here, and I don't have anyplace else to go…." He snorts and unfolds his arms to point a finger at me hard, shouting, "This ain't no goddamned homeless shelter, Kitty. Don't you fucking think you can just waltz in here whenever you freakin' want and take over the damned place, got it?" He moves from the doorway and gets right into my face, hissing, "You don't belong here, Miss Priss. And if I have anything to say about it you won't be here tonight." He continues on, his voice getting more and more vicious. I want to look away from him but his eyes burn into mine, keeping me locked onto him. His words cut me deep and the more he says, the closer I am to breaking down. Finally, just as he's telling me that I'm no friend of his, I burst into tears. _

_ The second I do, he falls silent. Angel on the other hand, chuckles and says, "You're in for it now, Bobby." Bobby's voice sounds panicked as he snarls, "Shut up!" I lower my face when he looks away, sobbing into my hands. I feel his hands on my arms after a moment and I can only barely hear him over my sobbing as he says, "Kitty… shit, stop it. Kitty, stop crying damnit!" It's less than comforting and the harshness of it makes me cry even harder. Even so, I find myself latching onto him, knocking him off of his feet. Sobs wrack my body even as I tearfully wail, "I'm sorry Bobby." _

_ "What you apologizing for, Kitty? It's that knucklehead who should be apologizing. He opens that big ass trap of his before he thinks." Angel offers, his voice still calm and unnaturally smooth despite the racket I'm making. I continue to cling to Bobby though, somehow knowing that it's him I need now. My body shudders when his arms close around me and I begin to calm down almost immediately. His voice is now surprisingly soft as he says, "Stop crying Kitty. Shh… c'mere… Angel's right you know. I'm an asshole sometimes." It's classic Bobby, not fully taking credit for what he's done wrong, but somehow it's comforting. I let out a little laugh and he chuckles, "There you go." I pull back a little bit to ramble, "I'm sorry Bobby, I don't want to burden you or anything, it's just that I didn't have anywhere else to go an' I wasn't planning on staying forever, I just-"_

_ "Whoa, Kitty, shut up for a second." Bobby says with a mock-overwhelmed look on his face. I obediently stop talking and nod when he says, "Alright, this is what we're going to do. We'll talk to Ma and figure out what happens next, okay? She'll sort things out." I nod again, relieved, and realize that for the first time since meeting him, Bobby is being nice to me. Upon realizing this, I beam at him, excited. He gives me an odd look in return, not getting why I'm so happy. _

"Kit?"

I leap up from the kitchen table as if I'd been caught doing something wrong. The sound of Bobby's voice breaks into my thoughts and drags me back to the present. I wipe at the tears on my face and fidget as he approaches me, his face completely unreadable. His voice is rough when he questions, "What'r you doing up?" I shrug, tugging at the bottom of my oversized sweater and hoarsely whisper, "I couldn't sleep." I look up after a second and say, "You?" He just gives me a look, silently telling me he's suffering in the same way I am. I feel a lump form in my throat once more as our eyes connect and just as a few more tears sneak out from under my eyelashes he grabs me by the collar of my sweater and gently pulls me into his arms, wrapping his arms around me tight. I shiver a little as I return the embrace, sniffling, and then whisper, "I missed you."

"Yeah." He says gruffly, his breath on my bared shoulder. I bite my lip at his response, instantly wanting to interrogate him further. 'Yeah' what? Yeah I missed you too? Yeah, well I don't give a shit? It's been years since we saw each other, and with the way we left things I wouldn't be entirely surprised if he were still angry with me. I open my mouth to ask him what he means when he pulls back. The look on his face warns me not to try him right now; that now isn't the time to get into it. I move away from him, trying my best to hide my hurt when, just as gruffly as before, he says, "Get back to bed." My heart is slightly lifted when I hear the bit of warmth in his words.

It is with this knowledge that I finally fall asleep, because I am, at least for the moment, reassured that he hasn't cut me out of his heart totally.

**End Part 2**

Soundtrack for part two: "Weird" by Hanson (Yeah, I know Hanson sucks overall, but just go with me on this one, okay?)

So, what do you all think? Any guesses as to what happened to her in the past? Anyone?


End file.
